Flicker
by sepia days
Summary: A series of vignettes [incomplete, more soon].
1. Dao Shi

Tao Jun on that one birthday and her commitment. Did I ever mention how much I hated summaries?

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Disclaimer: This is where I tell you that I don't own Shaman King. I'm sure you know that. So let's get on with it.

Dao-Shi

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.begin

The house smelled of death, of cold and stone.

She had once asked her mother why, but all she received was a dark look, soft and sad. She had dared to ask her father once, and the answer hadn't surprised her.

"Because you are a Tao." That was his universal answer for everything, and she went away unsatisfied.

Her little brother had asked her why once too, and it angered her that she could not answer satisfactorily to him, because he was possibly more dissatisfied with those answers than she ever would be.

Her brother scared her sometimes, the way he looked at her father and mother, and the way he saw ghosts. Her father was pleased though, and said something about shamans in general and a Shaman King, and then said something about the time being right. (She had not paid enough attention. After all, there were more important things.)

So when it was her birthday, she was not surprised when her mother informed her that her father had a special present for her.

Her mother led her down the dark corridors alighted with incense and candles and smelled of death. Her mother opened a door that she had not dared to enter (but why would she have? There were more important things) and her father was there, his shadow cast ominously over a coffin. Her father had a gift for making people feel small and insignificant, but she would never give him that satisfaction of knowing. 

So she regarded the coffin as coldly as she knew how, without question.

"Your birthday present," her father spoke, waving his large hand with a flourish. "May you use it well."

She almost wanted to coil away from the coffin, but her brother was there in the shadows, and she stepped forward, talisman in hand.

"Yes," her father said softly. "You are a _Dao-shi_ now."

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched her brother watch her curiously.

The coffin was etched with three words. Lee Bailong.

"Come!" she shouted with frightful strength. "I summon thee, Lee Bailong!"

He burst out of the coffin with impressive strength, but she did not falter. The talisman clung to his forehead (did he feel it? Could he feel it? Could he fight it?), and he was static, allowing her to walk up to him.

He was dead, she realized, not too long ago. Though he was cold to the touch, his flesh had not yet rot; his skin and muscles were still firm and taut.

"He was alive an hour ago," her father suddenly spoke up indifferently. So they had murdered him, but it did not come as a surprise. After all, her family, (her father, at least) was willing to do anything for the good of the family. "Use him well."

And suddenly she was alone, with only a corpse, who stared straight ahead at nothing, to keep her company.

She stepped closer and touched him again. His eyes were dilated, and she could almost read his life in those eyes. His hands were very cold, and she reached up to touch her own cold face.

He had no feelings; he was only a puppet.

It hurt to look at him, this man that was killed in the prime of his life to serve the purposes of the Tao family.

"Yes," and all of a sudden, her family was there again, and she felt their eyes bore into her. "Use him well."

Her little brother was staring at her. There were no more important things than this.

"I will."

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.end

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Ending notes: Blah. A little strange, I admit, but I'm a strange person. Don't ask me what it's supposed to mean, that's for you to decide. **Edited **4.16.04 A few word choices and more parentheses fun.

.sepia days 


	2. Night

Yoh and Anna. Need I say more?

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Disclaimer: This is where I tell you that I don't own Shaman King. I'm sure you know that. So let's get on with it.

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Night

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.begin

There are times at night when he reaches out and touches her.

She never moves, or even acknowledges it; nevertheless, he pulls his futon closer to hers.

They can drop their barriers at night, when all is dark and ambiguous, when they can, for at least a moment, pretend. At night, he can touch her and draw her close to him, and she will not protest. They never speak; saying something would destroy the careful barrier that the night has so conveniently put up for them. If his lips brush against her forehead, if his hand goes around her waist, it is merely a trick of the night.

His hands are always clumsy, so it's she that pushes down the blankets and pulls them together, but it's he that reaches for her. He curls up to her in a swift movement that evokes a sharp gasp from her as his face presses into her neck.

Her slender hands rake through his hair, some fingers getting caught in the wire of his headphones, but she can't help it, not when his warm breath is on her shoulder, not when his arms are wrapped around her. When she shifts, uncomfortable, he shifts with her, and she is glad that he never holds her tight enough; it makes things easier.

In the morning she wakes first; her hands are tangled in his hair, and his head is resting on her breast, in the crook of her neck. She has to move away; the sunlight is pouring in.

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.end

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Notes: Yeah, so I suck. Anyhow, this is just a lousy attempt to write Yoh and Anna with hints of angst. XP

+ + shirayuri

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To EneriRenie: Thank you very much for the review! I didn't mean to give the impression that they weren't close… ^^;; I actually do think they were close when they were children. Actually…well. I'll explain in my notes. Thanks again!

Next: **Iron**, about Iron Maiden Jeanne, angst, Hao, and Lyserg.


	3. Iron

The Iron Maiden thinks about Hao, Lyserg, the Shaman Fight, and love.

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Disclaimer: This is where I tell you that I don't own Shaman King. I'm sure you know that.

Iron

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.begin

On some days, she wishes that she didn't have to be quite so strong.

Mind you, she is, she supposes, strong by nature, but that doesn't stop her from wondering what it would be like to be without a destiny. Eleven years of age and already the leader (the icon?) of an organization dedicated to bringing judgment to evil.

The X-Laws. Hao. These are words that have now become a part of her, and she will never be the same. 

Killing Hao is a goal, something that she is driven towards, that is almost a pastime. If she didn't have to kill Hao, she would probably have to kill Yoh.

After all, they are halves of each other, born as twins by accident, or so she likes to think. Thank God that Yoh is so strong willed, though he is not strong enough to do what has to be done. That is why she is the one who has to kill Hao.

Yoh still maintains the thought that Hao may reform, repent, and come to their side. Yoh does not accept the fact that killing for justice is the only way to deal with Hao. She has tried to see it from their side and cannot.

The X-Laws is the only side she believes in.

It is highly improbable that Hao will ever let go of his dream of purifying the world. She can see why he wants to do so; she would like to become Shaman King and be able to purify the world. But his method of genocide is unacceptable to her; how many people have lost their lives, or lives of their loved ones to his false cause?

"One must sacrifice," he says to her when they meet, with a sort of fierce gentleness. "I am willing to make those sacrifices."

"Will you spare no one?" she asks in return.

"Maybe Yoh," he replies in a light manner. "If he returns to me. Not you. Unless..." He lets it hang in the air.

She expects as much. "I will kill you."

"I would not expect any less from a woman of your caliber," he smiles that dangerous smile and leaves.

Marco would be disapproving of their meetings, so she has kept to herself the countless times that she has met with him.

"Maiden-sama," she can almost hear him say, "you _mustn't_ meet with the Destroyer. You are our only hope in defeating him." But Marco hates any and every man that comes near her.

They worship her with a fervor that almost frightens her, but she doubts that they care about her silent suffering that she endures with no complaint.

It hurts to stay in her oversoul; no one denies that. They have seen her come out, pierced because of the spikes, slightly nauseated and unsteady. No one moves to help her; they turn away and though they feel for her greatly, she is to endure this silently and courageously.

"Jeanne-sama?"

Lyserg, she thinks, it is only Lyserg that seems to care anything for her suffering; it is only Lyserg who doesn't turn away. Lyserg is most impressed, she supposes, since he wants so fervently to defeat Hao.

She stops walking and turns to face him. "Lyserg," she acknowledges with a simple smile.

He takes her hand and squeezes it affectionately, and she is a bit startled. She pulls away hastily, almost seeing why Marco wants Lyserg to keep away from her.

"I'm sorry Lyserg," and she is in the chapel kneeling down to close her eyes and prays. She does not open them to see whether or not he is beside her.

People like her cannot love. People with her destiny aren't meant for love.

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.end

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Ending notes: This didn't come out the way I wanted it to. *sigh* But then again, I'm not quite sure how I pictured it anyway. 

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Edited 4.16.04: A few word choices changed and once again more parentheses fun.

.sepia days 


	4. Essence

Yoh wonders about Hao and Anna's relationship (not _that_ kind of relationship).

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Disclaimer: This is where I tell you that I don't own Shaman King.

Essence

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.begin

He wasn't sure why she hated her brother so much.

He had somewhat of a vague explanation why, but one could never be too sure about her thoughts. Sure, a lot of people hated his brother, and it shouldn't come as a surprise that his fiancée did too (but that didn't stop the thoughts from coming).

"Why does he need to come over?" she asked him, gritting her teeth as she kneaded her fingers into the futon. She folded it with impeccable precision, quick and efficient.

"Because," he said simply, propped on his elbows, watching her. "He's my brother. And almost yours too." He smiled, but the look on Anna's face was enough to erase any smile.

"Don't remind me," her tone was dry, but it was stressed, pained, and it hurt him to see her like this.

"I'm sorry Anna," he apologized, but remained firm. "But he's my _brother_."

He thought her fingers would break; the way she so tightly grasped the futon was enough to make any fingers shatter.

He looked at her thoughtfully, and she stared back. "He reads hearts," she said simply, her eyes hard and cold. _Like me_, she could've said, but she didn't have to.

How very strange it was, that someone as strong as Anna would be disturbed by such a thing.

He would have gone over to her and held her, if he could. But she did not expect his of him, and he did not give it.

And tonight, when Hao had come over, bearing a smile and some kind of food (he forgot what, though he ate it happily enough), Anna's lips had drawn themselves into a very thin straight line. Her hands clutched the small round beads of her rosary tightly, and her eyes were set close to each other, glittering dangerously.

Hao didn't so much as glance at her as he sat and chatted pleasantly with Yoh, and only when he stood to leave, did he finally look at Anna. From the time he had stepped in the house, she had remained in that same tense position.

As if on cue, she reached out her hand, and Hao took it, kissing her fingers lightly, then left. Anna's lips were very white, her eyes had narrowed further, and she let that hand drop limply, then went into their room.

This was important, Yoh thought, though he couldn't seem to imagine why.

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.end

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Ending notes: I _do_ like how this came out. XD

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Edited 4.16.04: Tense changes and more parentheses fun! (Well actually, just one I think.)

.sepia days 


	5. Eve

Hao and a mother's love; a Keiko introspection of sorts.

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Disclaimer: This is where I tell you that I don't own Shaman King.

Eve

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.begin

Something her daughter-in-law said about her older son (her lost son) burned inside her memory.

"He told me that I reminded him of his first mother." Here, Anna had paused. "His real mother."

She was really telling Yoh, but Keiko couldn't help overhearing and hearing this created a tumult of emotions to arise.

She had met Mikihisa right out of high school, and they were married quietly (and happily, she might add). She had been so happy, though she was not of the disposition to show it. On her wedding day, her mother had warned her about the old destiny, but Keiko didn't care, didn't want to care. She had plunged in, just the same.

Mikihisa was all she wanted. A nice, small happy family and a quiet life were all she wanted.

One period missed, then the next, and the next…

Her stomach began to softly round, and she was sick and irritable, but she didn't want to tell her mother or father or even Mikihisa for that matter.

In the end, it was the morning sickness that brought her out.

They knew already, before she told him. They always knew.

They delayed in making any decisions, until she was well into her 8th month. It was a hard decision, and she did not blame them.

She would always remember that meeting when they finally decided to kill them both. There was no doubt that she would have twins.

She remembered sitting in a close circle outside, with only the stars for light.

"It's the only way." She didn't remember who said it; Mikihisa, Kino, or Yohmei. It might not have even been spoken, but this phrase was etched in her mind.

They looked to her for agreement, and she had memorized their faces. Her mother's face was fierce and determined; her father's like stone; she could read nothing. Mikihisa looked almost sick, and this impressed her the most, that this man was willing to kill _his children_ to save the world. Her fingers curled around her bulging stomach.

Of course, she could only agree. These children, _her_ children…if they had to be killed, better it be by the Asakura's.

"You don't believe that we're going to kill them, do you." It was a statement, and not a question that her mother had addressed her with the morning before that day.

She was surprised. "I do." Her hands touched her stomach.

"You don't," her mother gently disagreed. Strange, she had thought. Her mother usually did not talk as such. Loving, perhaps, was in her vocabulary, but not gentle. "You don't."

Keiko stared at her. "You exercise everyday and read baby books and watch what you eat. You play music for them; you even read to them." Her mother looked at her with something akin to compassion. Her fingers curled protectively.

Up until that moment, she had not realized what she was doing. Her eyes lowered to the ground, then lifted resolutely. "They're _my_ children," she said softly. "We have to do what we have to do, but they're my children, and I can love them before they can know me."

"You shouldn't have," her mother began.

She cut her off. "Tell me you don't love them too, and then tell me I shouldn't love them."

Her mother was silent. "He is meant for great and terrible things."

She smiled. "So is the other."

The day passed and that day came all too quickly. She was frightened, and it must've shown. Mikihisa took her hand and smiled at her. "It'll be okay." Then, her water broke.

She remembered his face well; it would be the last time she would see it as such.

It made her sick, when she saw her father standing there, prepared for them. But after wave after wave of pain, she soon forgot and just _pushed_.

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He came out first, wet and enveloped in blood. She suddenly remembered again, and her father raised his arm to strike. Their eyes met for a split instant, and she saw his eyes, sick with the deed that hadn't yet been committed.

It happened so _quickly_, she only remembered a burning flash of light, a terrible yell of agony, and the gentle crooning of reassurance.

It was her mother; her mother's voice was whispering soothing things to her, and Mikihisa…her heart gave a hitch, it was he who had yelled in such pain.

And there _he_ was, in a great ball of fire. She gasped, but clearly heard him thank her for carrying him in her womb, and he was gone.

There was still one more, and her mother urged her to push, and she did with much pain and agony. And it was over.

Her mother handed Yoh to her, wrapped in blankets, still wailing.

She couldn't help thinking what he could be crying for.

She loved them both so much, it hurt. It hurt to know that someday, one of them would lose to the other. Both were so strong in their own way.

She could only be proud of Hao. A mother can only want the best for her children, and if this was what Hao wanted, then she was satisfied.

She_ knew_ with the utmost certainty that she was his real mother too.

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.end

Ending notes: Keiko is so under appreciated, and her relationship [or lack thereof] with Hao is so sad and touching, I couldn't help it. The transition from the second to the last paragraph to the last line is awkward. Very, very awkward. I had no clue how to fix it, so I'm going to leave it as is, and if some brilliant thought comes to mind, I'll fix it.

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Edited 4.16.04: Well, that last transition still isn't fixed, because I'm (apparently) not brilliant. Well, not too many major changes, just the beginning was moved around, added to, etc, etc.

.sepia days 


End file.
